Alisa's Story
by JimHarbis
Summary: Alisa Sullivan is struck by a car, and awakes in a hospital realizing she has a new ability. Rated M for frequent coarse language. First non-Zelda story.
1. Author's Notes

=Author's Notes=

The use of characters "-," "~," "=" to replace quotation marks and to illustrate thoughts will be present, if not abundant.

"-" will be used for normal characters.

"=" will be used for Julius.

"~" may not have been used yet, but I will let you know what it is representing if it isn't blatantly obvious in the story.

Thestringsoftext represent subliminal thoughts. Or something.

Hopefully, this will be enjoyed by at least one person.

Enjoy.


	2. Prologue: Incidental Origins

~Prologue~

It was cold and dark, and that was all she knew. There was then an overabundance of light. In the daze she found herself in, she heard jumbled words and phrases. Buleer! Kluur! Clear! She felt a sharp lurch in her chest, and found she could make no noise. Finally, she was allowed rest and heard someone calling out her name. "Alisa! Alisa!" the voice said numerous times. By the sixth time, Alisa had passed out.

Whether there was a dream to be dreamt, she didn't know. When she awoke, her mother, Sherry, was holding her hand.

"Nice to see you, sleepyhead," said Sherry, with tears in her eyes.

"Hey mom," she replied. "Everything hurts... what happened?"

Sherry's sad smile quickly died.

It all ran through her mind in an instant.

July 29, 2010.

The day it happened.

Alisa Smith Sullivan was walking with her friend Jasmine Leah , and they were sharing the headphones on Jasmine's iPod. Seeing as it was Jasmine's iPod, she had the right of way as to what song got played. Jasmine had chosen Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody." They were at a crosswalk in front of the Old Balldown Mall. Everyone who came to the city of Old Balldown visited the mall, and out-of-towners always commented on the crosswalk. Instead of the normal yellow and white lines of paint, this particular scheme was lavender and orange. Due to the extreme heat of summer, Jasmine had bought a large blue raspberry slushee, and Alisa had a plain ol' ice cream cone. They started off across the street, the light shining through the trees, giving her face a beautiful glow. Shortly thereafter, Jasmine grabbed at her arm. The cone fell to the ground and splattered, like a glob of jelly against a wall. Everything hurt. She heard a car door slam, and saw nothing but red. The red faded to black.

"Shit! Shit! Oh my god!" yelled the man who got out of the car.

"What the fuck were you thinking? Can you fucking see?" Jasmine screamed at him.

The man was partially bald, sweating profusely, and was wiping it away with a plaid golf cap. The sweat was also soaking into his white golfing gloves.

A security guard had seen the entire ordeal and reported it to 911 in great detail. The ambulance came, and they loaded Alisa into the back. She had stopped breathing.

As Sherry told Alisa the stoProxy-Connection: keep-aliveCache-Control: max-age=0, Alisa blinked in disbelief.

"What happened to Jasmine? Is she ok?" asked Alisa.

"Actually, she i-" Sherry began.

There was some shuffling of feet outside the hospital room, and in walked Jasmine.

"Alisa! You're awake!"

"Jasmine!"

Jasmine came over and carefully hugged Alisa, minding the casts on her left arm and right leg, and also the neck brace she was wearing.

"Alisa, I'm so sorry I let you get hit, but I saw him only a split second after you did, and I tried to grab you, and-"

Jasmine started to cry.

After about ten minutes of hugs and comfort, the nurse came to inform the group that visiting times were over. As Jasmine prepared to go, Sherry pulled her to the side.

"Thank you so much for watching out for her and trying to protect her." Sherry said, hugging Jasmine tightly.

"You're welcome, I guess, but it wasn't a choice. I had to at least try to do something. I also don't exactly have a ride home. I kinda walked here." replied Jasmine.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all. I am curious, though. Aren't you sixteen? You could get a license, couldn't you?"

The nurse ushered them out before Jasmine could answer.

Sherry dropped Jasmine off at home, and drove off. Jasmine was quiet as not to wake her uncle and little brother. As soon as she got into the house and closed the door, She heard a small knocking coming from upstairs.

"OK, I'm home now!" She yelled up the stairs.

The noises abruptly stopped.

She went into her room, grabbed her bedclothes, and went downstairs to shower. When that was finished, she promptly went to bed.

Before she fell asleep, the last thought to cross her mind was that her uncle was unmarried. Also, that he was gay.

The next morning, Alisa woke up from a very strange dream. In the dream, she was wearing a plaid golf cap, and was tied up. She had a white golfing glove bunched up in her mouth as a gag, and she was about to get hit with a nine-iron. It came swinging at her in slow motion, and when it was a millimeter from her cheek, she woke up. She moved her arm and screamed.

The nurse came rushing in, asking her what was wrong.

"Oh, nothing. I had a pretty messed up dream, and I woke up and hit my arm on the railing."

The nurse propped her arm up, gave a satisfactory nod, and walked out of the room.

Alisa averted her eyes to the T.V. screen and sighed. Sesame Street was on.

-What do they think I am? Five?- she thought to herself. Using her good arm, she flipped to channel 23, where a reporter was just coming in live from the Old Balldown Mall.

"Yesterday at approximately 4:28 in the afternoon, a girl and her friend were walking right about where I am standing now. A man came driving in and struck one of them. Police have released information about the man. They say his name was Roger Sandersburg, age 34, and it has been found that he was on his cellphone when the accident took place." said the reporter in a voice that suggested she had a cold.

During the broadcast, the nurse brought in some food.

-Bleh. Hospital food. Probably government rations, like at school.- Alisa thought.

She thanked the nurse and began eating. Even though she didn't like the food, she was very hungry. She ended up eating all of it.

She was unaware that the pain in her leg had gone away.


	3. Chapter 1: Immediate Aftermath

~Chapter 1~

Around 5:13, Sherry woke up from a deep sleep. As hard as she tried, she simply could not return to her previous slumber. She yawned, sat up, and swung her legs out over the edge of the bed. Groggily, she stumbled out of her bedroom and into her kitchen. She flipped the lightswitch, but it would not come on. She fumbled her way to her storage closet where she kept the spare light bulbs. She grabbed one, and stalked back into the kitchen. Suddenly, she was overcome with great hunger, and she set the lightbulb on the counter. She stared at her fridge for a few seconds before opening it, and she had the strangest feeling that someone was watching her.

-Oh, it's nothing. Just you being so damn tired. Make yourself a sandwich for lunch later and go back to sleep!- She thought.

=Or are you alone?= a voice seemed to say.

It scared Sherry, and rightfully so, because the other voice seemed to come from her own mind.

Her hands now shaking, she slammed the fridge door and heard her husband moan in the other room.

-Dammit, better not wake up Dwight!- her mind warned her.

=Make me a sandwich too, while you're at it.= the voice said again.

She threw together a quick and messy sandwich, harshly shoved it in a small bag, and threw it in the fridge. Now shaking, she opened the cupboard next to the fridge and grabbed a bottle of gin. She took three swigs, and half-jogged to her bed, where she immediately passed out. At 8:24, she awoke again, and went outside to get the mail. To her surprise, she discovered that someone had bashed her mailbox in with a blunt object.

-Damn teenagers!- she yelled mentally, and then remembered her own daughter was a teenager. She chuckled to herself before wiggling the mail out of the smashed box. She sighed, went back in the house to retrieve her sandwich, and got ready for work.

-I wonder where that lightbulb went?- she questioned.

Meanwhile, Jasmine sat in Biology, bored to death with her teacher's words of Ardepithicus Ramidus and his extinct friends.

-It's a fan-freaking-tastic prehistoric party.- she thought amusingly, right before her stomach let out a huge growl. Kids in front of her turned around to stare. The one thing that was always on her mind was ice cream, of all things. She guessed it was becProxy-Connection: keep-aliveCache-Control: max-age=0se of Alisa's accident. Remembering that, she wasn't hungry anymore. Many of her friends had asked her about what it was like to be there and see it happen, and each time she burst into tears, and angrily shoved the people away from her. To her, they all seemed like insensitive assholes.

Alisa's father, Dwight Sullivan, awoke to the sound of a car starting and pulling out of the driveway.

-Does she always leave this early? And if so, where does she go?- he thought, wiping the crusts from his eyes.

"Hopefully it's to work." He said to nobody.

He walked, still tired, to his kitchen and noticed his copy of Stephen King's Insomnia on the table. He picked it up and started to read where he left off. Ralph's attempts to hide his thoughts from Doc #3 made him laugh. He read for twenty pages before he realized his bladder was full, and that he was hungry. He promptly relieved himself and made some omelets after washing his hands. Dwight worked from his home, showcasing and selling items on e-Bay. Each month he went on a small buying spree, buying trinkets and doodads that he thought would fetch a pretty penny or two. This month, one of the items he bought was a cookbook especially for omelets. He decided to keep it. As he was getting the eggs out of the fridge, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He ignored it and focused on preparing his food. After everything was ready to cook, he decided he needed the salt.

He looked behind him, almost not noticing the figure standing in the hallway. He screamed, and fainted. As he hit the ground, his left index finger bent in a way it was not intended to, and made a juicy cracking sound.

Later that morning, at about 11:43, Alisa sat watching the news while she waited for the day she could go home. She tapped on the cast surrounding her leg and winced, expecting intense pain. She was surprised to find that there was none.

-Must be one hell of a cast!- she exclaimed mentally.

=You would think so, wouldn't you?= a deep, masculine voice responded, except there was nobody in the room.

She froze.

-Where are you? Who are you?- she asked it, unsure if she would get a response.

=My name is Julius Johnson. I'm in the room above you, and before you ask, I've been able to do telepathy since I was fifteen. That's how I would pass all my tests in high school. It was fun, let me tell you.=

-Since we are having a conversation, does that mean I have this "thing" too?-

=Were you involved in an accident or something of the like?=

-Yeah, I'm here cause I got hit by a car, and broke my left arm, right leg, part of my neck, and stopped breathing.-

=Well, that sounds about right. Usually happens after a near-death experience, like yours and mine.=

-What happened to you?-

=It was my fifteenth birthday, and we had a dried up drawbucket well, God knows why, and my dad left it open and told me he hid my present in it. He was joking, and I got mad. Being the arrogant teen I was, I started kicking at the bricks. When that did no visible damage, I leaned up against it and started calling him dirty words. The bricks gave way, and I fell down the shaft. Broke the same arm and leg as you, but instead of my neck, I broke part of my back. I also couldn't breathe, but that only lasted about a minute and a half. Luckily, my brother saw me fall in. When they got me out, I was crying and thinking it was God punishing me because I swore, said that I would never call people cuss-words ever again. I try not to, but sometimes an arrogant bastard is, well, an arrogant bastard.=

-Aw, damn! Sorry to hear that Mr. Jo-

=Call me Julius, please!= he interjected.

-Ok. Sorry to hear that, Julius. How old are you now?- she asked, concerned for this poor soul's well being.

=Twenty-three. I'm here today because I wanted to get into the air-conditioning. I told them I was here to visit the old chap up here in this room. I got his name from two chubby ladies walking out of the main door.=

Alisa snickered at that, both mentally and out loud.

=This thing only works close range though, and I'm feeling hungry. I'll leave you to have your thoughts unmolested for a while.=

-Well, give me a shout if you come back!-

=Oh, I will. They have cable here!=

And with that, he was gone.

Very quickly, a short subliminal string of worries shot through Alisa's mind.

{whataboutmyboyfriend whatwashisname ohyeahhisnamewasDevon doeshestillloveme willIbegoodenoughforhimwhenI'mhealed}

At that exact moment, Devon's hand felt the breast of another girl.

Alisa hadn't the slightest clue.

The room turned a dark shade of blue, and flipped upside down for a split second.

Sherry walked into the room just as Alisa's mental conversation ended, and Alisa almost jumped out of her skin.

"God, mom! You scared the hell out of me!" Alisa said, laughing as she carefully hugged her mother.

"How have you been, hon?" Her mom asked, giving Alisa the most motherly look ever conceived.

Alisa prepaared to answer her when Sherry's face twisted into a large, evil grin, and her mouth had grown nearly three feet long, twisting across her face like a giant crack. It went from ear to ear. The crack opened, revealing nearly sixteen circular rows of teeth.

Sherry moved in closer to Alisa, looming above her as if to surround her head with those horrible teeth.

Trying not to scream, Alisa picked up the knife she had used to cut up her egg. She held it by the blade, with the sharp edge pressing against her palm

{}

She cocked her arm, got ready to throw it, and let the bastard fly.

The knife flew into Sherry's gaping mouth, lodging itself through the roof of her mouth, her sinuses, and into her brain.

{headshot} the subconscious string said.

Big-mouthed Sherry made a noise, which seemed, to Alisa, like tires squealing on pavement.

Alisa snapped awake screaming.

Roger Sandersburg woke up in prison, breathing heavily and once again sweating. His cellmate gave him a look that said

-Really?-

Roger looked at the ground.

-I wish I would have gotten the death sentence. What was I thinking?- he thought, his eyes tracing the lines on the floor.

=Why do you wish that?= a deep man's voice said.

Roger looked around at his cellmate.

"Hey, did you say something?" he asked.

"No, mud'afugga, I di'n't say nuttin'." the cellmate replied.

=It wasn't him.= the voice said to Roger.

-Are you in my head?- he asked the voice.

=Well, somewhat.=

Roger had always been the shy type. When he was around nineteen, he became obsessed with conspiracy theories about the government and such. He was convinced that they could read his mind and that the aliens would come and probe him. Luckily, he was introduced to golf, and he acquired a girlfriend. With those two things in his life, he was able to take his mind off every theory he had ever heard in his life. In fact, he was so good at golf that the only reason Tiger Woods became famous is because Roger had broken his ankle before the tournaments. He got married after his ankle broke. His wife's name was Veronica Spalini, and her family had moved to America from Italy when she was three.

He met her in sixth grade, when his teacher had placed him at the same table as her. The first time they ever spoke was when she had dropped her scissors. Roger had caught them and cut his finger.

"My gosh! Are you alright?" she had asked him.

He told her he was fine, and that it was only a small cut. He was good at hiding the pain, because the cut had actually extended all the way down the side of his hand. He raised his uncut hand to ask to go to the bathroom, where he washed it off and cried. He still has the scar to this day, a testament to the love he lost. After seven years of beautiful marriage, they finally decided to have a child. During the birth of the baby, it was strangled by its own umbilical cord. He couldn't believe what he had just witnessed and shot his hand up to hold Veronica's. They were very cold.

Veronica had died as well.

He cried every night he spent alone for four whole months. In three years time, he was seeing people again. There was a small problem. Whenever he went steady for a while, he would find himself in a situation where actions were getting heated, and sex was just around the corner. When that time arose, he immediately thought of Veronica, and he was disgusted with himself, ultimately forsaking any upcoming actions, leaving his girlfriend very unhappy and angry with him. She always called him a wuss, saying

"I thought I was the one with the pussy in this relationship!"

He left her apartment room, exited the hallway, and stepped out of the elevator on the verge of tears.

On July 13, he had been on the phone with a hotel clerk, trying to reserve a lounge for his dead daughter's memorial party/wedding anniversary. As it turned out, their wedding, only wife and child's death had fallen on the same day. The clerk said there were already reservations in all of the rooms. And that had been when he had inadvertently struck Alisa.

=Those are some very unfortunate circumstances, Roger.=

"How in the hel-" Roger began out loud, earning him another stare by his cellmate.

-How in the hell are you talking to me? Who are you? Have you read my thoughts? You fucking creep!-

=Please, Roger. No need for foul language or insults. Yes, I can read your thoughts, but you have read mine as well. That is how we are communicating. My name is Julius Johnson, and yes. I did read the story about your wife as you thought it. I am very sorry that all landed you in prison. How long are you in for?=

-Well, just today and tomorrow. Luckily for me, the city council of Old Balldown decided to keep an old set of laws intact that deal with automotive accidents. That's the only reason I'm in here really. How is this... this telepathy... even possible?-

=Well, I went through some circumstances very similar to your own. I had a beautiful wife. Like you, were were married exactly 7 years before we decided to raise a child into the world. Eventually, when the baby was being born, I was mentally cussing out the doctor for gawking at my wife's vagina. When it came out, it also died by strangulation with the umbilical cord. Mine too was also a baby girl. It was absolutely mind-bending, and thinking God was punishing me for swearing, I vowed never to swear again. Sometimes, however, I do swear. Sometimes an arrogant bastard is, well, an arrogant bastard.=

-How old are you?-

=Well, this is somewhat awkward, but I am also thirty-four. Just like yourself.=

Roger swayed on his bed and fainted. Seemingly in the distance, he heard was Julius announcing that he needed to leave the jail, because the cops were suspicious of why he was just sitting in the lobby.


End file.
